Phantom Heartbeats
by Supreme Distraction
Summary: Rose *always* got what she wanted—no exceptions. Especially when Alice was involved.


Ah, my first Twilight fic. I go by the books, by the way-not the movies. Let me know what you think!

**-Phantom Heartbeats-**

What Rose wants, Rose gets—but I'm getting ahead of myself.

We Cullens have lived together for roughly a century, roaming the world and settling down for as long as possible before too many questions are asked. It's interesting, actually, to see how little (though, sometimes, that isn't the case) humans vary over time or place; it's like they all follow the exact same script despite playing different roles in different plays over the course of very different time periods. Humans are safe, predictable. Like a well-trained dog around a newborn. I suppose that's why I like them.

We're vampires, by the way. That's rather important.

There are seven of us in total:

Jasper—he's the oldest vampire among us and still learning control when it comes to interacting with humans. He's got pathokinetic powers that allow him to sense, sway, and sometimes even experience the emotions of others, and he happens to be my favorite due to his gentle nature. Years ago, I had visions of the two of us being together, but… Well, things change. We immortals know that better than anyone else.

Emmet—the boisterous, overly-friendly muscle man. He's a good friend and, despite his intimidating demeanor, he's a real softie. He's also the only one who can take me in hand-to-hand combat. He and Rose have this on and off relationship and my visions of their future—together? Apart?—always vary.

Esme—the mother figure of our little coven. She's kind and beautiful and she always has time to hear me out. A true angel among men.

Carlisle—the father figure of our little coven. He serves as a doctor for all of Forks and he possesses the strongest self-control I've ever seen. Even _I _have had my share of trouble when it comes to the alluring call of human blood, but Carlisle barely blinks anymore.

Edward—the closest thing to a brother I've ever had. He's extremely old-fashioned and gentlemanly, which has managed to net him the affections of every girl at the high school we all attend. One in particular, Bella Swan is her name, has the most delicious scent I have ever had the pleasure of smelling. Her blood would likely be a complete flavourgasm—but that's not a safe thought. Suffice to say, he's brought trouble into our happy home.

There's me, Alice. I can see the future. No, really. Oftentimes, it's just little things that I can go on without ever needing to know, but sometimes my ominous visions are downright traumatizing. I try to remain upbeat, though, because I know my family needs that from me. If Esme is the Fairy Godmother, I'm like… Tinker Bell.

Which is funny because the big guy gave me that nickname ages ago due to my stature (I'll admit I'm a little vertically challenged compared to the others) and the "dainty" way I move about.

And, last but not least, there's Rosalie. I mentioned her before. Rose is… Well, Rose is a lot of things. A dozen adjectives—as well as confusingly complex emotions and thoughts—spring to mind whenever I consider my older "sister"—by title, not blood.

Like the others, she's tall, statuesque, drop-dead gorgeous. Like the others, she's capable of impossible feats of strength and speed. Like the others, she doesn't breathe, her skin is as cool as a fall breeze, and it sparkles like diamonds in the sunlight.

Unlike the others, she claws her way under my skin on a weekly basis, rolling around for good measure because she knows I'll hate it.

Rosalie is the only one who can affect me the way she does and she takes advantage of that.

Speak of the devil, the blonde woman emerges from the hallway to the back of the house, smirking when she sees me, and making a beeline straight for the sofa where I'm seated. I have to slide out of the way to avoid being sat on and my powerful sense of smell is completely enveloped by the lingering aroma of the lavender-vanilla body wash that she uses.

To be completely honest, the scent is too familiar for comfort.

"Hey, Tink. How goes it?"

"I'm trying to watch TV, Rose. What do you want?" There's annoyance in my tone that I can't quite stifle.

The vampire smiles and I'm instantly wary. "May I join you?"

"You already have," I sigh, turning my attention back to the television. It's changed to commercial and I've missed Dr. House's diagnosis of the patient's true ailment. Phooey.

Rose stays quiet for almost fifteen minutes—so quiet, in fact, that I nearly forget she's there until she stretches out on the sofa like a cat in the sun, laying her head in my lap. She has a habit of using me as furniture, I've noticed, though I'm not sure if it bothers me or not.

"Pet me."

_Like a cat_, I muse, absentmindedly slipping my fingers through waves of golden blonde without looking away from the screen. She makes a rumbling purr low in her throat and I falter, that confusing mix of emotion coursing through me, sending my thoughts astray.

Why do I always blindly obey the older female? It's like a tic: she asks, I do it. I'm not the only one who lets the primadonna vampire have her way, but I _do _allow her to get away with more and I'll admit to that. I think I've said 'no' to Rosalie all of three times in the past century, which is astonishing.

Sad, really.

She sits up, grabbing my legs and swinging them around so that I'm stretched out on the sofa, and I blink. "What are you doing?"

"Getting comfortable." She says it as though the answer is painfully obvious and I should have already known it. That doesn't change my apprehension at all, however, as she settles back down, this time between my legs, her head resting on my breast. "Much better."

I feel as though, if I still had a beating heart, the pace would be accelerated.

And it's always been like that with Rosalie from the moment we first met.

_/ "Well aren't you a pretty little thing?" a playful voice asks._

_I wheel, fangs bared, to face… An angel. Her features are divine, golden tresses falling around her face in elegant ringlets. Unlike me, she is dressed for the weather in a stylish fur coat, her hands hidden within a crème coloured muff. Instantly, I feel guilty for the terrifying snarl that had bubbled out of my throat, but she seems unperturbed. How had I not heard her approach?_

_Feeding really wasn't a good time for me to interact with others._

"_I'm new here. Rosalie." Her golden gaze travels to the bloodied corpse of an elk lying at my feet and she doesn't seem alarmed by it at all. She—a complete stranger—offers her hand and I take it without question. It's cold to the touch and the hungry haze lifts a bit; I shiver as a spark travels up the length of my arm from the point of contact._

_What was _that?

_The woman—the vampire, I now know—uses her grip to pull me closer, leaning in until we're almost nose to nose. "You've got a little something…" Her tongue flicks out, capturing the droplet of crimson at the corner of my mouth and, though I instinctively flinch away, a thrill travels the length of my spine. Her eyes are a bit darker now, a hungry shade of amber._

_What is this?_

"_Guess I've got to get used to that taste," she chuckles._

_My brain finally reengages and I nod. "It's not so bad, really. Just… Messy."_

_We both look to the elk and she laughs, the sound like the chiming of bells. "I think I'm going to like it here." /_

"Earth to Alice. Paging the oracle."

I start and register just how close Rosalie is to me, her golden gaze inquisitive. "What?"

"You've been staring blankly into space for a while. Have another vision?" There's a shade of concern in her voice and I smile slightly, touched. She knows how difficult it is for me at times.

"No, I was just lost in thought."

The concern is gone in an instant, to be replaced by her usual coy playfulness. "Thinking about me?"

"Why on Earth would I be thinking about _you_?" Why indeed.

A familiar scent floats into the room, so sweet and tempting that it makes my fangs ache, and I growl low in my throat before I can stop myself.

Rose arches an eyebrow. "Have you fed recently?"

I haven't, I realize. My eyes must be pitch black.

"Have either of you seen Edward?" a pale brunette asks, sweeping into the room, her brow furrowed anxiously. "I can't find him any—" She stops, her eyes widening. "Am I interrupting something?"

Oh God. With Rose so close to me, it must look like—

"You're making poor Alice here hungry, Bella," Rosalie answers coolly, putting a bit more distance between us as she turns her attention to the human girl. "You mind?"

"O-oh. Sorry, Alice." Guilt floods her features and I attempt a reassuring smile.

"Not your fault."

The blonde in my lap makes a shooing gesture and the brunette scampers off, presumably to continue searching for her boyfriend. As Rose settles back down, I squirm uncomfortably, hunger still roaring through my senses. "We could go out right now and get you a nice bear," she offers. "Maybe a side of mountain lion. I know you like those."

I don't want to leave my comfortable spot, but I really should feed—especially since Bella has been coming around here more and more frequently. We hunt in pairs and, usually, Jasper is my partner, but he isn't exactly around… "Great. Let's go."

* * *

You never notice how taxing it is to pretend to be human until you're able to move at full speed, launch yourself from tree top to tree top, and wet your fangs with the crimson life-giving fluid that makes up a vampire's diet.

Out here on the Rez,—a reserve for big game located deep in the mountains a few miles from the house—I feel free. I feel powerful.

I feel as though Rosalie is _way _too close for comfort again.

She looms over me, grinning, a rabbit cradled in her hands. "Look at what I just saved." The creature is wide-eyed, its pelt matted with dirt and leaves. I can hear its little heart racing and that makes the hunter's instinct within me howl with hunger.

"From…?"

Her grin gets bigger and she jerks a thumb towards her right. "It's a present."

My fangs throb, nostrils flaring as I register the carcass of a big cat lying at the base of a cluster of trees, its neck at an odd angle—a mountain lion as promised. I wet my lips, suddenly finding it difficult to swallow as hunger presses in, almost paralyzing in its urgency. "Rose…"

"Have at it." She smirks. "I won't peek, I promise."

I smile gratefully and cross the distance between myself and my meal in a single bound, lifting the rather large animal and sinking my fangs into its jugular. We vampires have a thin veneer of cool elegance—deep down, we're really just particularly clever, savage beasts.

By the time I'm done feeding, there's not much of a throat left.

As I plop down on a rock outcropping, hunger completely sated, I can feel Rose's golden gaze upon me like a physical touch—despite her earlier assurance—and my vision swims a bit, my muscles tensing as my mind's eyes conjures up—

_/ "Alice…" Rosalie coos, cupping my face as she leans in. _

_I don't move, too shell-shocked by the proximity and the way the female's eyes burn with a hunger that has nothing to do with blood. "Rose, you shouldn't—"_

"_Shouldn't _what_?" she questions, amusement warming her tone. "You knew this was going to happen, after all. You had a chance to stop it."_

_I'm rendered speechless by the simple truth of the statement. Why _hadn't_ I stopped her if I knew what was coming?_

_Then, she leans in even closer… and kisses me. /_

When the vision fades, I am met with golden eyes—normally honey-toned, now darkened to a shade of ochre—and a knowing, confident smirk. "You had a vision."

It's not a question, but I nod anyway.

She reaches out and traces her fingertips along the curve of my jaw, her eyes darkening a shade further as she grips my chin in gentle, firm fingers and angles my face upwards. "You seem confused."

I am. "Why… Would you want to kiss _me_?"

"Come now, Alice. You're my dear "sister." I know I'm not the easiest to get along with at times—"

She could say _that_ again.

"—but I'd love it if we could become close."

I can't deny her—not when she's got me trapped in that predatory gaze. Her lips are so close to mine that they almost brush with each word and my head swims, an odd sinking feeling pushing at the bottom of my stomach. "Rose—"

"Shush." She presses her lips to mine and, though I had known that that had been her intention, I'm still completely flabbergasted by the soft touch of flesh. Her tongue flicks out and traces over my bottom lip and, when I gasp—more a reflex than an actual desire for more oxygen—, she takes that as an invitation to slip right in, the cunning muscle swirling against my own in a playful dance.

When she pulls away, my body—normally a few degrees off of 'cool as ice'—is oddly warm and, though I haven't had a heartbeat in a little over a century, I feel the phantom _'ba-bump' _in my chest.

"Oh…" I murmur, completely at a loss. Her taste is still on my tongue and, though my body craves more, I slide backwards on my perch. I need the distance or I'll never be able to pull myself together. She shouldn't have done that. She has Emmet and I…

I'm not quite sure if I love Jasper in that way.

* * *

Rose doesn't bring up the kiss or even act as though anything has happened between us and, for that, I am grateful. She's the same old spoiled brat, harassing me throughout the day and making life in general a bit more chaotic for our housemates.

In fact, it isn't until about a week has passed that anything out of the ordinary occurs.

I open the front door and stick my head out to find the aforementioned blonde sitting on the porch swing, her skin sparkling faintly from the fading light of the sunset.

'_Lovely…'_—the thought occurs before I can think to censor it.

"Rose, it's time for dinner." She arches an eyebrow at that—vampires don't eat food—and I chuckle. "Charlie's coming over and we get to play pretend tonight."

"Fun." She doesn't move, however, turning her attention back to the darkening sky.

Something seems… off and I step out onto the wood deck of the porch, closing the door quietly behind me and leaning against it. "What's up?"

She shrugs. "Em and I had another fight."

They had been doing that lately. I cross my arms over my chest, trying to ignore the way a little thrill of satisfaction runs through me. I am a terrible sister. "I'm sure you'll work it out."

"I don't know if I _want _to work it out," she mutters and I blink, shocked.

It takes a lot to startle me, but this… This is big. Why hadn't I seen anything about _this_? Emmet and Rosalie had always seemed to be a match made in heaven and now…

"What exactly happened?"

The blonde shrugs again. "Call it a change of heart."

I frown. Who could ever stop loving Rosalie? "Did he say why?"

A small smile curves full lips. "Who said it was his heart that changed?"

… Oh.

Why do I feel so weirdly hopeful about that? I am a _terrible_ sister.

I'm so lost in consideration that I can't move out of the way quickly enough and, suddenly, I am trapped between the blonde vampire and the door, her arms braced on either side of my head.

"You're sweet," she purrs, licking her lips in a slow, tantalizing motion—as though she can still taste me on them.

With the way her body presses flush against mine, I'm reminded that she's quite a bit taller than me (almost an entire foot, to be exact). I'd have to lift myself on tip-toe to kiss h—

Darnit, brain!

But then, I see it. I know her decision the moment she makes it—

_/ Rose is smiling, but there is a sadness in her gaze that makes me growl. Who in their right mind would want to upset such a beautiful woman?_

_The male those sad eyes are fixed on is pale-skinned, tall, muscular—Emmet. His brow is furrowed and he is sitting on his bed, shoulders slumped, his hands hanging between his legs. There's a fist-shaped indent in the solid oak headboard. "So that's it then."_

_She shakes her head slightly. "I'm sorry… I never meant to hurt you. I just can't pick and choose who my heart wants."_

"… _Tinker Bell."_

"_Tinker Bell." _

_Emmet laughs quietly and looks up, golden gaze achingly gentle. He only ever looks at Rose like that. "You're still my Angel."_

"_I know." Rosalie stoops and kisses his forehead, lingering sweetly for a moment before rising. "But it's time for this angel to fly away." /_

"Is that true?" I blurt it out before I can help myself and my companion gives me an odd look.

"What… Did you see?"

"What did you decide?" I counter, not about to let Rosalie have the upper hand this time.

She scoffs, but there's amusement in her gaze. "It wasn't I who made the decision, really."

'_Ba-bump'_—why am I still experiencing these phantom heartbeats?

"So you meant it..."

In way of response, she leans down and kisses me. And it isn't just a kiss—it's as though she pours every warm, pleasant, heartfelt emotion one can have into it and I am left speechless when she pulls away.

"I meant what I said, Alice," she husks, snaking an arm around my waist.

I shiver, my body uncomfortably warm, and a whine escapes me—an eager, encouraging sound. Her gaze darkens, nostrils flaring, and—

There are footsteps behind me—ones that we _should _have noticed much, much earlier—and we split apart, arranging ourselves casually on the porch swing just as Edward opens the door. "There you two are. Come inside, Bella's father is here."

Dinner smells amazing—Esme has really outdone herself.

Of course, none of us can actually try it without becoming sick to our stomachs, so Bella had been in the kitchen with her all evening as honorary taste-tester.

Charlie Swan is sitting next to his daughter at the table and he smiles when he sees me, gesturing to the empty seat beside him. "Alice! It feels like I haven't seen you in forever. How've you been, kiddo?"

"I'm great, Mr. Swan! How's work?" I beam as I walk around the long dining table to sit next to him. I genuinely like Charlie. Rosalie sits across from me, between Emmet and Edward. Her foot brushes against mine and I shoot her a questioning look. When she inclines her head to the left, I glance over and notice a slim blonde male joining us.

"I apologize for my tardiness," he says, taking a seat next to me and resting his hand briefly, affectionately, on my shoulder. "Dinner looks wonderful, mother."

"Thank you, Japer," Esme replies, amusement glittering in mustard yellow orbs. "Charlie, how is it?"

He shoots her a thumbs-up, mouth full of food, and her laughter is musical.

"I missed you," Jasper says, quietly so that only I can hear.

Despite that, I sense Rosalie bristle and, when I glance up, a terrifying expression is just leaving her beautiful face to be replaced by a blank look.

I would have never taken her for the jealous ty—Wait, no. Not wanting to share fits the primadonna to a T.

It is then that it occurs to me that I will have to break off my relationship with _him_ if I truly did want to be with _her_.

The thought sours the rest of the evening.

* * *

"Hey, Jazz?"

He gives me a squeeze. "Mm?"

We're sharing a recliner in the den, my head nestled in the crook of his neck and his arm around my waist. This—the closeness, the companionship—is completely normal and yet I find myself fidgeting restlessly.

Something doesn't feel right.

Instantly, I feel calmer and I know it's because of Jasper. He's such a good guy…

"You know I love you, right?"

He smiles ruefully. "Somehow, the combination of your emotions and that statement are less than comforting."

"Sorry…"

The male gives me another squeeze; calm, patient—my rock. "What's on your mind, Alice?"

"Rosalie," I respond truthfully.

A single blonde eyebrow raises and I know that he wasn't expecting that answer. "What has Rose done this time?"

"Ah…" The kiss instantly comes to mind and I can't help myself, I feel a spike of desire. The worst part is, I know he can sense it too.

"I see," Jasper says quietly, confirming that painful little fact. "Have you told her?"

"Somehow, I think she knows." My tone is dry and he laughs, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

"Well I hope you two are happy together." I sit up so that I can see his expression, notice the sad acceptance there and feel a crushing guilt. I don't deserve Jazz. "Hey now," he soothes, calming my emotions as he ruffles my hair. "What we had was wonderful, but "all good things must come to an end," as they say. I'll always be here for you."

Part of me wishes I could cry so that I can get rid of the heady mix of love and guilt and sorrow that fills me. I think he understands because he leans up and kisses me gently.

'_I'm sorry, Jazz…'_

* * *

I wind up my arm, raising one leg so that the toes are pointed towards the sky. I see Emmet tense his arms, the bat in his hands wavering slightly as he forgets his strength and leaves finger-shaped marks in the aluminum.

We practically buy the things in bulk anyway.

When I throw the ball, two things happen: there is a deafening _'CRACK' _that resembles lightning as Emmet sends the sphere sailing into the stratosphere and Rose runs from first to home base in about three seconds, her hair flowing behind her from under her baseball cap.

Edward groans. "C'mon, Little Freak, get your head in the game."

"Leave her alone, Edward," Rose calls, taking her place at the batting mound again. "I wouldn't want to break a sweat."

Oh, it's on.

I spin my own baseball cap around so that the bill is to the back of my head, winding up again and inhaling slowly as I draw my leg into position.

The blonde smirks. "I'm feeling a home run."

When the ball flies past her at Mach speed and into Esme's waiting mitt, the smirk fades and I grin. "Strike one."

Golden orbs narrow. "Try that again."

I do and it works. "Strike two."

"C'mon, babe!" Emmet groans. "I wanna win this."

For some reason, hearing him call her that bothers me. I wind up once more, centering myself as Rose brandishes her bat. Esme smiles encouragingly and I hurl the ball again—

'_CRACK!'_

This time, I launch myself after the leather sphere, catching it by the skin of my teeth a few meters up and hurtling back to the ground all in a split second. The moment I land, I'm in motion again, the world blurring around me as I throw myself towards the golden blur that is my adoptive sister.

Unfortunately, I overestimate the distance between us and end up slamming into Rosalie, the collision of cool, marble-like body with cool, marble-like body creating an incredible sound that I'm sure can be heard clear across town. It doesn't hurt at all, but when my brain catches up with my reflexive actions, I realized that Rose is lying on her back in a huge rut, her clothes soiled (literally)… and I'm straddling her waist.

Oh… goodness gracious.

Her eyebrows draw together, but she can't seem to hold the expression, her gaze raking over me appreciatively—as though she likes what she sees.

Who knew the blonde would enjoy being on bottom?

The thought makes my face feel hot, though I am incapable of blushing, and I duck my head, embarrassed. I seriously need a new filter for the completely inappropriate statements that my brain produces.

"Get a room," I hear Emmet mutter under his breath; his tone is enough to engage my motor skills and I leap to my feet, politely offering a hand to my fellow vampire.

"You're out."

* * *

In the end, it's Emmet's team that wins, much to Edward's disdain, but we all leave the playing field in high-spirits, glad to have been able to exercise a bit of supernatural strength and speed.

Rose immediately heads upstairs, tracking mud all over the polished wood floors in her wake, and Emmet and Edward drag Jasper off somewhere to go do male things. I myself head for my room. I'm in the hallway between my room and the bathroom on this floor when I hear, "Tink, you mind grabbing me a towel?" over the rush of water.

I dutifully stop mid-step and turn back, knocking on the door out of habit before pushing it open and—

I should have known better. This is _Rosalie._

Her eyes are black as pitch, full lips turned up into an inviting smile—a smile is the _only _thing she's wearing and she's seated on the edge of the sink with her legs crossed primly at the ankles.

"You…" I swallow, hard. My eyes seem content to try and commit her porcelain perfection to memory. "Rose, that's hardly fair."

She laughs. "What do you mean?"

"Saying "no" to you before was improbable. Now, it's downright impossible."

Another laugh, this one smoky with desire. "How about you stop saying "no," then? It doesn't suit you."

I can't agree more.

I kick the door shut behind me and, the moment the lock _'click'_s into place, Rosalie whips me around, her nubile form molding flush against my front as she crushes her lips to mine. She bunches up the hem of my shirt, shoving it upwards, and she breaks away just a moment later, her eyes wild with hunger, wide with surprise.

I didn't wear a bra today and I think that little fact is appreciated—very appreciated.

The blonde takes both mounds into her hands, kneading them roughly and tearing a surprised moan from my throat as she leans in and nips at the curve of my throat. Jasper and I have made love before, but it has never been like _this_: my body is molten, pliant and responsive—basically hypersensitive—under Rosalie's touch, pleasure licking like flames along my bones to melt me into a pool of ecstasy. My inner muscles clench, throbbing longingly—aching to be filled.

And I know Rose won't disappoint, either; I wrap my legs around her waist as she lifts me, taking careful steps backwards and towards the shower. She nudges the stall door open with her foot and steps inside, drenching the both of us in wet heat.

It occurs to me that, now, the rest of my body matches the state of my all-too eager nether regions and I release a giggle, prompting a questioning look.

"I am _so _wet right now," I breathe, biting my bottom lip.

Rosalie nods, wordlessly yanking my drenched—and not entirely from water, either—shorts and underwear off and dropping them to the tile, so quickly that I don't have to relinquish my position. She presses my back up against the cool tiles lining the shower wall; I think I crack a few of them when the blonde reaches between my legs and my head falls back, spine arching to encourage continued contact. Fingertips run along my southern lips slowly, teasingly, her free hand cupped under my bottom to hold me in place.

I shudder, not entirely sure if the way my body heats is due to the water cascading down. "_Rose_…"

"I've got you, babe."

'_Babe…' _A pleased purr rumbles in my chest—I _like _that.

The blonde shoots me a radiant smile before sliding a single finger inside of me, up to the second knuckles. My cunt throbs around the intruder and her smile becomes brighter still as she draws that single, teasing digit back with painful slowness, then thrusts it back in—this time with a friend—as far as it will go and I see stars, my hips pumping as pleasure razes my senses. There's the glorious sting of sharp fangs at my throat and I bare it submissively, a little mewl of pleasure escaping me when she acquiesces, biting down harder, and I feel a warm rivulet of pure, unadulterated _want _drip down my spine to pool between my legs.

I'm going to cum very soon, I can feel it. My muscles quiver, a knot of absolutely mind-blowing rapture winding tighter and tighter in my loins, threatening to snap—

When it does, my eyes roll back and I _know _I've shattered tiles as my head slams into the wall, my legs tightening around Rosalie's slim waist. Her fingers don't stop, her thumb coming up to rub against my clit as she thrusts into me; a third finger is added and, suddenly, I believe in God because I have just seen heaven.

It takes a full minute for my muscles to relax and it is then that I register the slight throbbing at the back of my skull where I've managed to brain myself. Still, a goofy, satisfied smile spreads over my face and I reach up, threading my fingers through golden locks and pulling my newfound lover into a searing kiss.

"_Mm…_" Rosalie moans, her skillful tongue serving to stoke the embers of my arousal into full-blown flame once again.

I unwrap my legs and slide down her body, kneeling between her knees and pushing her backwards so that _she's _the one pressed into the wall. The smell of her sex is intoxicating and I don't hesitate—I dive right in, tongue running upwards, along the length of her slit, to draw tight little circles around the sensitive nub at the top.

Her taste is divine, but even more so are the throaty sounds of pleasure that she makes as she dances on the tip of my tongue, her hands clutching at my short brown hair to ground herself.

I'm honestly shocked at how wet the younger vampire is; my fingers slide in without resistance, aided by the slick substance, and I curl them at the ends, finding a soft, spongy spot that makes the blonde cry out—a loud, wanton sound.

Everyone in the house can probably hear us, but I don't care.

I hammer the spot rapid-fire and Rosalie actually screams—

"_ALICE!"_

—as she orgasms, her nails digging into my scalp.

I catch her as she slumps to the shower floor, wrapping my arms around her and pressing an affectionate kiss to her forehead.

The hot water has run out by this point and she makes a displeased sound, cuddling closer to my warmth (we're only warm to other vampires, of course). She gives me a small, amused smile when I reach up and struggle to turn off the water, my fingertips just barely managing to reach the underside of the knob.

"You should come back to my room with me," the blonde husks, drawing her fingertips coyly over my collarbone.

I shiver, a thrill of excitement running down my spine. "Is that an invitation or a command?"

She laughs, rising to her feet and sauntering out of the shower stall, the sway of those wide, shapely hips revving my sex drive and dragging my mind straight down into the gutter.

But more than that, I appreciate the gentle way her lips curve upwards. She's happy… And that makes me happy. God, what a dorky thought.

There it is again—a phantom heartbeat; the _'ba-bump' _of the organ I no longer possess. I realize now with more certainty than I have ever had about anything that, had my heart been capable of beating, it would beat for Rosalie and Rosalie alone.

She's giving me a curious look. "You coming?"

My grin is crooked, suggestive as I hop to my feet. "Already did."

Those golden orbs swirl with flecks of amber and black. "We've only just begun, my darling girl."

Rose has her way with me many more times before the night is over. After all, what Rose wants, Rose gets.

**-Fin-**


End file.
